


Room For One

by TaikoTurtle



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Just a small ficlet, Post 2x08, Sanvers - Freeform, bed sharing trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaikoTurtle/pseuds/TaikoTurtle
Summary: Sanvers short mini-fic based on the "bed sharing" trope! Alex and Maggie go undercover in a hotel. They check in with one room (and we all know where it goes from there)





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a gift for my Carmilla Secret Santa. I don't think they've seen the post yet, so hopefully they don't make the connection hahaha. Intended to be a very short story based off of one of their top 10 favorite tropes. I hope you all enjoy, and hit me up on tumblr if you'd like!

“The room is all checked in, we’re good to go.”

Maggie’s voice snaps Alex out of her daydream and the two head for the nearest elevator, their footsteps echoing eerily in the mostly deserted lobby.

They had been assigned by the DEO to go undercover at a small, remote hotel nestled quietly in the outskirts of National City. With a drab beige exterior, minimal architectural embellishments, and established in an out-of-the-way location that seldom visited, it was by all means a very normal and unassuming business.

What’s hiding behind that exceptionally mundane facade is what brings both agents there to begin with. 

Rumors of alien criminals pushing an illegal physical enhancement drug lead the DEO to believe that their base of operations is hidden somewhere within the building, thus Maggie and Alex were sent to investigate.

The elevator dings and the dull silver doors, desperately in need of some grease, screech open like nails on a chalkboard. With their duffel bags in hand the pair step inside warily, the dim lights flicker and the cage dips weakly under their combined weight, and Maggie quickly punches the cracked button for floor eight.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the hotel screamed _Tower of Terror_  atmosphere on the inside, Alex would have enjoyed this alone time with Maggie. They had only just begun their tentative relationship a little under a week ago when the NCPD detective showed up at her front door with an unexpected confession. Since then, Maggie has been sending her simple but sweet texts everyday - just little things that remind Alex that it doesn’t take grand gestures to articulate one’s affection. 

Having a girlfriend started as such a foreign concept, seeing as how she had not been in a relationship for so many years, but with each passing day it continued to grow on her because Maggie just made it so easy.

The elevator lulls to a stop with another  _ding_ and whines in protest as the doors open. They make their way through the winding hallways and do their best to ignore the peculiar odor wafting through the air as well as the intermittent bumps and mystery sounds that reach their ears each time they pass a new room.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Alex mutters quietly as if the walls would eat her alive should she raise her voice too loud.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I can’t wait for this assignment to be over,” says Maggie as she fishes the keycard out of the paper holding sleeve.

Chuckling softly, Alex elbows her in the arm, “What? Don’t like spending quality time with me?”

They stop in front of a dirty cream-colored door with a crooked placard reading 826. Maggie shoves the keycard in a few times thanks to a faulty reader and patiently waits for the light to switch green.

“Trust me Danvers, I know how to treat a lady and this is not up there on my list of things to do,” she cocks her head to the side and casts Alex a mischievous look, “but once we’re finished with this mission, I’ll show you _my_ idea of a good time.”

With that deadly grin and illegal dimples, coupled with her deep, hushed tone carrying the promise of an unforgettable tryst, Alex swears that her heart stops right then and there. Her palms feel clammy, she’s sucking in air yet still can’t breathe, and her pulse is so loud there’s a damn rock concert in her ears, so when the keycard light finally turns green, there aren’t enough gods in the universe for her to thank when Maggie breaks their eye contact to enter the room. 

The first thing that assaults her senses is the questionable floor. Alex assumes that at one point in time, it used to be khaki or sand color, however the sight of a dirty color gradient and a plethora of suspicious splotches floods her mind with all the filthy possibilities that might’ve caused such discoloration.

Secondly, the odd smell present in the hallways didn’t appear to be dissipating even inside of the room. Hints of cigarette smoke, stale musk, and some other unidentifiable scents forces Alex to wrinkle her nose in mild distaste. 

She follows in hesitantly behind Maggie, her eyes scanning the room for any abnormalities or threats, but besides the offensive carpet nothing else catches her attention. There’s a plain tiny bathroom in the entryway with a sink sporting a chipped corner as if somebody slammed something heavy into it and she wonders how many other criminals were once housed in this very same room. She notes that the room still has an old fashioned box television complete with rusty rabbit ears bending in wild directions and it reminds her fondly of her childhood when she used to lay on her stomach and watch Saturday morning cartoons. Maggie tosses her bag on the bed, and as Alex moves to follow suit, she abruptly freezes in place.

“There’s uh… only one bed.”

Her words tumble out before she can withhold her surprise and Maggie laughs.

“C’mon Danvers, you know I don’t bite.”

Maggie removes her leather jacket while making her way towards the closet near the entryway, and as she passes by the taller woman she leans in close, her voice barely above a whisper.

“…at least not yet.”

Alex’s breath hitches in her throat and she comes to the conclusion that if the night continues this way, she won’t last until morning because Maggie will be the death of her.

She drops her bag onto the bed and hastily rummages through the contents before pulling out her favorite pajamas. Loose grey pants and a plain white T-shirt may not be sexy in the least, but they’re practical and comfy so she couldn’t care less. 

Alex escapes into the bathroom and the door slams shut with a little more force than intended, but her brain is screaming on high alert as she struggles to suppress the nervous anticipation over their sleeping arrangements. It’s not like Maggie is expecting anything to happen… right? They’re on a job, not some weekend getaway, and besides that, the hotel is the biggest mood killer of all. 

_Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen._

Those words repeat through her head like a holy mantra as she slips out of her clothes and into her pajamas.

The bathroom is ice cold and she swears she spots a nasty bug out of the corner of her eyes, so she doubles her efforts and vacates the tiny room with astonishing speed. Alex heads towards the bed, her discarded clothing bunched up loosely in her grip, and that’s when she sees her.

Their mission must’ve been a failure because she’s sure she just died and went to heaven - she’s gazing upon pure perfection from the afterlife.

Maggie, in all of her wondrous, well-toned glory, has her bare back to Alex. She’s changing into an old worn shirt for sleeping, her neatly defined muscles flexing with each subtle movement, and Alex is instantly enthralled. Like exploring uncharted territory, she memorizes the shallow valley between her shoulder blades, every little winding scar that bears the ghosts of missions passed, even the delicate dips in her lower back where _goddamn_  she has more dimples to match her smile.

Then the moment passes as her shirt pulls down completely over her head and conceals the eighth wonder of the world. Alex gulps in a long overdue breath of air and wonders when exactly her brain had ceased functioning.

Pulling the covers aside, Maggie inspects the blankets for anything suspicious before slipping under the sheets. She pats the empty space beside her and flashes an amused, quirky grin.

“You just going to stand there all day? Or do you not want to hop into bed with me?”

Alex’s brain short circuits.

_Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen. Nothing’s going to happen._

“Oh my god Alex, just come over here already. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

_In… out… in… out…_ she gently reminds her lungs how to operate and shakes her head violently to snap out of her daze.

“Y-yes of course, sorry.”

Alex clicks off the bedside lamp as her legs carry her clumsily towards Maggie and she pulls back the covers conservatively. She leaves a good three to four feet of empty mattress space between them and nearly curls into the fetal position all the way up to the edge of the bed.

Her eyes barely get to close before she feels a pleasant, encompassing warmth behind her and the soft pressure of Maggie’s chest and _now_  she’s sure that she’s died and ascended to the beyond because there’s absolutely nothing in the world that can feel this _good._

Maggie throws her arm comfortably around Alex’s hip and draws her in close so their bodies feel together as one because they just fit so well within each other and Alex has _never_ felt more right in her life. She nuzzles her face into the crook of Alex’s neck with drowsy affection.

“We’re definitely going on a vacation after this,” Maggie whispers.

Melting into her touch, Alex nods in agreement and slowly drifts off to sleep.

//

They bust the bad guys the very next day in record time. 

Alex claims it’s because she hated the hotel’s vibe and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Maggie thinks it’s because she just wanted to go on vacation faster.

Which they do end up taking, in New York, no less.

(Alex learns Maggie likes to bite quite a bit)


End file.
